The bell tolled twelve and it was time to go, quickly out the gates our feet pattered against the pavement to the Chapel. We mustn’t be late, we wouldn’t want to anger our father or mother. Standing before the grand doors we hear the bell ring out once more it is five minutes past. We wait patiently for the doors to open, and most of us smooth our uniforms to make ourselves presentable. Today is the day all the older girls wait for, today they are reintroduced into society as new women. When they first arrived they were deemed too unruly; uncontrolled; conscious. That is why they were sent here to St. Alman Reformity. It is designed to teach proper thought, which is no thought, and obedience. That is our most important teaching here, to be obedient and not to question.
When I first arrived here I was considered wild, my hair was unkept even though it was just curly. I dressed improperly with too many colors so they gave me a grey plaid skirt, white dress shirt, and grey coat. I spoke improper English therefore I was ignored until I could speak correctly. I spent multiple days crying and begging for someone to listen to me only to be met with indifference. My name was unusual so they gave me a common one. Ameila. In class, I would question their teachings about women. Women were made to serve men. To maintain the house to honor their husbands and raise the children. They do not need thought. It was such a peculiar thing to teach. Back in Barbados women would sing and dance, express opinion, rebel against their husbands, and fill their lives with colorful experiences.
The teacher would always snap at me “Why would you question such a beautiful and secure life? This is our way of life, this is why you are here because you dream of an ugly life.”
Later during bedtime, they’d take me away to the dark room. They would play a video over and over again about the beauty of an obedient woman in society. The beauty of their life which would soon be my life. Then Mother would enter smiling brightly, she’d rub her hand against my cheek. A touch so warm and comforting, she would always ask me “Now do you see?”
If I said no she’d leave and the room would feel cold and dark again and the video would play again. Unlike the first time, Father would enter holding his bible reciting the scripture over and over again. He wouldn’t stop even after the video would finish.
During my first year, I was in that room almost every night by my second and third year I understood the greatness of this life they were preparing me for. I stopped asking questions because there was nothing to question.
I learned what it meant to be a true woman in society, how to be tidy, and how to follow the scripture. I gave up my unruly ways I no longer wanted to sing or dance, I no longer argued, I was exactly how society wanted me to be. A shell of a human. A wonderful doll.
Today is Union day and it is my turn to be reintroduced into society. As the doors opened everyone bustled in to take their seats. I stood in a line with all the older girls all ecstatic with excitement. One by one they called the names of the girls anointing them as new women. Until it my was turn. Father called my name and as I made my way down the aisle. Instead of excitement, I felt dread. This felt wrong. The beaten child in me began to speak again a voice I hadn’t heard in years. “Why are we doing this.”
No.
I can not allow myself to be misguided by thought.
“What’s so wrong with singing and dancing, wondering, color, experiencing and dreaming.”
I wanted nothing more than to batter this child til there was nothing left. My feet started to feel heavy and this uniform started to become constricting. I made my way up the steps and stood in front of Father.
“Ameila, you’ve come so far Society awaits you and it is time to say your vows.” He looked down at me so proudly. For a moment I felt reassured. But that child in me screamed with ferocity my true name “Narissa.” A name meaning follow your heart.
I looked Father in the eyes for the first time since I met him, “My name is Narissa.”
As if those words set me free, I laughed at the shock on his face I looked at Mother who had a look of disdain. I looked at my sisters who bore looks of uncertainty. And I danced and sang a song of my freedom long forgotten. As I lept and spun off those steps and pushed open the doors of that ugly Chapel. I ran for my freedom, to that beautiful field just past the gates of hell that I once felt was just too far to reach.
That child in me burst free and painted my soul once more with color that I thought was sucked from me long ago. It roared freely wild and unruly. I could hear The Union running after me wondering what to do. I could hear some of the younger girls cheering and as I looked back just beyond those gates I saw Mother smile at me. As if a glimmer of that child in her found its way to the surface.
Submitted by Kayla Gullage
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